


De Forme Beaucoup Plus Noble

by Omnibee13



Series: Brothers In The Dark [7]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Hints and implications of past trauma, M/M, Nudity, Undressing, Vergil being vulnerable, soft, soft soft soft, trust play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29671299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibee13/pseuds/Omnibee13
Summary: Vergil and Dante share a moment, wherein Vergil allows himself to be vulnerable..
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Series: Brothers In The Dark [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2038610
Comments: 19
Kudos: 76
Collections: Spardacest Server Fics and Art





	De Forme Beaucoup Plus Noble

**Author's Note:**

> This is something of a rough character study, a warm-up gone away without my leave. It takes place sometime between La Douleur Exquise and Formation Sur L’intimité.

Not a lot of words were spoken, if any at all. Dante just poured whisky, sat a the edge of the bed, and watched. If Vergil was uncomfortable with the arrangement, he didn’t make any comment either. Things just seemed to happen, organically, and with very little fuss.

He noticed that Vergil was commonly dressed from head to toe. Aside from his face, he was buttoned up from neck to ankle, and in more than one layer in some place. He never thought to ask him about it, but he assumed it had to do with his time as Nelo Angelo. It was no secret that Mundus had torn Vergil down, stripped him in more ways than one.. It made sense that he would then over-correct. 

Perhaps it was a strange fetish to indulge. A weird kink, if there ever was one. But there was something about seeing it all come away, like the unveiling of a statue or the unwrapping of a finely festooned gift, that tickled at something in his soul. 

Vergil was taking deep breaths, and began his usual routine with some trepidation. His hands were shaking. He reached up and barely mussed his hair, making it closer resemble, at least in near the bangs, that of his twin’s. 

Small things followed. Vergil pulled at the straps of his gloves and pulled them off, peeling them from his hands. They went into the pockets of his coat easily, seamlessly. Next the coat itself -- heavy, embroidered -- was shrugged off, finally exposing some meaningful skin. Vergil wasn’t as thick as his twin. The coat being off revealed he had a slim waist and hips, like a swimmer or a runner, and toned arms. 

Everything about Vergil seemed overly complicated and ornate. He was keeping the world out as much as he was keeping himself in. Buckles and straps and everything else. It seemed that he wished for it to be a chore to get undressed, difficult, nothing could just be torn off. This began with the grieves that he wore around his boots. Six buckled straps kept them secured, one of which went under his foot, even, like a stirrup. There’d be no way to easily rip it off. And perhaps that was the point.. 

Vergil spent some time, carefully undoing each strap, top down, before moving to the opposite leg, and doing the same. The entire process took precious minutes, and he set them aside. The black boots he wore went up to his knees, and they too were zippered up the back of his calves. He pulled them off, and the dark socks that he wore inside them.. 

And then this part seemed to drag. 

He had sat in a smaller chair, in the corner of his bedroom, one where he had spent many a night in, reading under the lamp, glasses low on his nose. He sat, now, not quite hunched, but definitely uncomfortably. Dante gave thought to just ending it there, but hesitated. His hands gripped the front of the cushions and he pulled a breath in, and released it. 

These were the big pieces. Pants and shirt. Bare hands, bare arm, bare feet, these were nothing. 

Vergil swept a hand through his hair, pushing away any wayward strands, and forged on. His vest seemed to wrap around him from behind, more complex snaps and parts that kept him .. tight. Wrapped up tight. No one could grab the front of it and rip it off him. 

Dante was starting to see a pattern.

The vest had six snaps, starting from his throat, and Vergil worked to undo them all. Beneath it, though, was a long zipper, one that descended from his throat down to his navel, rather than the other way around. With the front undone, and more of pale, smooth skin becoming more and more visible, Vergil seemed to become more and more anxious. 

He was not scrawny, by any measure, but he was of a more slight frame than his brother. No scars, despite Dante knowing, this man had been through hell. Tortured for years, tormented for many more, and had come dangerously close to Truth Death before he made the decision to skewer himself, ritualistic and alone, within the skeletal remains of his mother’s parlor, with the Yamato. No, no scars, but he could see other things, as he pulled his vest off and again, set it aside with some care. 

Dante could catch a scar, across one of his palms, bright white and ropey, a slash, but he could make out no other scars. Just a freckle, or a small mole, like a beauty mark, on his left hip. He wondered if Vergil shaved, because aside from a ghostly white line of hair down from his navel, he had no other body hair to speak of, not that he could see now. 

Now he was reduced to his pants, tight and dark, and still patterned along his thighs with the same, diagonal pattern not unlike the one at the front of his vest. 

All that separated Vergil from nudity and symbolic vulnerability, was a simple black button and fly. These, Dante assumed, could be ripped off. Peeled off. But one’d have to go through several other layers to get there. And unless Vergil was unarmed, then Yamato would stop anyone with unsavory ideas. His hands were surprisingly calm, considering the rest of his body seemed tense, rigid, and tight. 

.. Dante was reminded of Milton, and _Paradise Lost.._

_Of far nobler shape, erect and tall.._

And Vergil was tall. He stood six-foot-five, and though when clothed he had perfect posture, naked, his shoulders pulled in, slightly, his head dipped, and he seemed far younger. Gone was the proud, glorious Dark Slayer who dreamt of bringing the demon world to heel and rule it as the rightful king and Eldest Son of Sparda.

_Godlike, erect, with native honor clad.._

Vergil looked like Apollo. And he did have body hair, a nest of snowy white curls around the base of his penis, albeit that was decidedly not erect, but alas.. 

Either way, he had done it. Vergil had admitted, that for twenty four years, from the time he had _made_ Nero with the woman on Fortuna, he had not undressed in front of anyone. He seemed deeply uncomfortable with nudity at all. 

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “That’s ..” He shrugged. 

_That’s it._

Dante stood, and closed the distance between them. Vergil tensed, but when Dante put a pair of calloused, gloved hands on his face, brought him near, so near that their noses nearly touched, and their lips brushed, instinctively turning their heads, complimentary, naturally .. He relaxed, eyes slipping nearer to closed. But not all the way.. never all the way closed.. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Vergil swallowed, his throat clicking and he finally did, actually shut his eyes...

**Author's Note:**

> After a too long hiatus, I've decided to return! Tumblr is a bit of a hell-hole with virulently nasty antis who've .. seemed to be quite delighted with sending me hate and death threats?? Wild.  
> Oh well.. It'd have to take quite a lot more than that to knock me off the horse, to torture a metaphor.   
> I've wanted to rejoin the AO3 community a lot recently.  
> I thought I'd do so with some gentle Dante/Vergil.  
> If you're not going to abuse it, please feel free to offer con-crit here, or over on Tumblr, at omniverbosity,tumblr.com. You may also send me requests!
> 
> Happy to be home..
> 
> O || M || N || i


End file.
